


Death walks

by Fjodor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible, a second chance, fun in the short term, portrait Hermione Granger - Freeform, sad in the long run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19411885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fjodor/pseuds/Fjodor
Summary: any comments you have are appreciated





	1. I'll be there for you

**Twenty Five minutes prior**

Looking out over the wounded she hoped that Harry knew what he was doing, it had been about an hour since he had left the caste, and in that he was off the map for twenty more. When Voldemort had made his ultimatum she had been against him going, but with an invisibility cloak, there was little she could do to stop the selfish boy. She looked up when Dennis Creavy let out a yell of horror.

Looking over she could see Minerva rush out of the Chamber that they had collected the wounded in. Looking over to where the Weasleys had been helping out she took off after Ron and Ginny who had been closer to the door. As she made her way to run out of the door, she could hear her friend and mentor Yell out; “NO”

Making her way into the courtyard she could see what Minerva had yelled about—the line of deatheaters was outside, Voldemort at the head and in the middle behind him she could see Hagrid. Hargird holding a limp body of a boy with black hair, a pair of round glasses and a bloodstained jacket.

She herself yelled out as her elder had done before her, alongside her friends, “ _No!_ ”

As the others streamed out of the castle, the defending forces now clumped together as a singular group. They pushed past her and quickly she found herself in the back of the mass of people, standing still in shock.

Harry couldn't be dead, in all her research into the forces at play with life and death, all her studies into Horcruxes and their interactions with others, his so-called shield of love as the old fool had called it cause he never looked into it deeper. But had she been wrong? Was there a flaw in the sources that she had consulted.

Harry was dead, he was death laying in Hagrid's arms about thirty yards from where she was standing. As she took it all in she could faintly hear and see Nevil being the brave Gryffindor that he was, before Voldemort shut him down. There wasn’t a lot he could have done. He never stood a chance, not against Him.

Looking over the assembled masses of deatheaters she recognised a few faces. Heads of ministry departments, owners of stores in Diagon Alley and it’s more sinister counterpart, Knockturn Alley, but despite the fact that they had won, more than half were still masked. She sensed a kind of dread in the air in between the two forces.

Without putting too much conscious thought into it she raised her wand up slightly so it was pointing at Harry. “I’m so, so sorry Harry,” she whispered as she cast the temporal resurrection spell she had found and modified off at him. It was a slight ray of light that could have easily been mistaken in the dust and fire that was ever burning in the square.

When it made contact with Harry it did do something she hadn’t expected it to do, it bounced off. As she tried to follow where it had gone—Nevile broke free from the body-bind curse and with a swift motion cut off Nagini's head. Temporarily distracted she hadn’t noticed Grawp thundering into the square, the arrival of the Centaurs in the back of the death eater forces and the simultaneous disappearance of Harry.

**Two minutes prior**

She played dirty, even with the three of them dealing with her was like playing with fire in a fireworks factory. One misstep and you’re dead. As she tried to land an incineration curse on her, she easily dismissed it to the wall on her right. There was no cackling to be heard but a wicked smile was plastered on her face. 

She didn’t seem to be taking this all that serious if she had just focused on one of them she could have easily have stopped them or even killed. She was playing with them, picking at their defences. As she found them she snuck in a quick curse that sliced their skin. Last time she had dared to look, Luna had been cut in the arm a fair few times and Ginny had a slash across her face.

She could feel that there was blood seeping out of her side from when they had started but since then she had been good about deflecting the spells. To her side, she saw a flash of light rise up in a column with McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn being thrown out of it. Voldemort was standing tall with his back to her and on the other side, she could see Harry standing there.

As she raised her wand she saw out of the corner of her eye a large gash appeared in Ginny’s side. As Blood was flowing out of it she was pushed aside by a different wich, who just yelled out, “You—will—never—touch—our—children—again!”

She didn’t know what Molly was responding to but as she raised her wand she quickly started throwing curses at her opponent. The Wicked grin turned into a grimace as she suddenly was fighting a fair fight.

**Five minutes after**

The battle had been won, the death had been counted as far as they could this early into the aftermath of the battle. As the Weasleys were grieving over one of the twins, from where she was sitting she couldn’t make out the difference, Harry had walked out of the Great Hall. 

He needed space, in the direct aftermath there had been a euphoric yell as Voldemort fell, his body hadn’t been moved yet. In the corner where he had fallen, she could see a cleared area with his corpse. For someone that wanted to become immortal, he had barely reached life expectancy.

Looking at the map she followed him as he walked out into the halls. He was wondering with no plan, looking for those that he had lost. As she looked she noticed that the ghosts of Hogwarts slowly approached him. As he stopped she could only imagine what they were saying to him.

Looking back to the great hall she could see the massive disparity between his sole existence with the deceased and the living that was mourning the death. She saw herself sitting in a corner out of the way of the families. A couple more of the muggle-born participants had joined her. All of them had lost, somewhere still searching in the rubble inside and outside of the castle but she could see who would get lucky and who would be less.

Looking inside the hall she noticed a blip, it was quickly in and out of the map. She hadn’t gotten to reading it before it disappeared again. She looked over to where the bip had put this person. No-one could have apparated in and out so quick, many of the protective barriers and charms had been destroyed in the battle. The one that kept them from appearing was still active as of a few moments ago. Some families had tried to take the bodies back to their houses.

All she could see was the corpse of Bellatrix Lestrange, she had fallen at the hand of Molly Weasley. Stripping their histories away and only looking at the duel it had been one of the most impressive ones she had observed, only being passed by Voldemort and Albus's one in the ministry.

She looked down on the map again, now staring her in the face was the name of Bellatrix Black.

“Oh F—”

**Two days after**

“Hermione please talk me through it again.”

“As I said professor I didn’t know what I was doing with that spell, I just saw him in Hagrid's arms and tried to do the impossible—”

“—the spell that you adapted?”

“Yes, but it didn’t take or something, it just bounced off and then I lost track of it.”

**Five days after**

“Hearing of the seventh of May, into offences committed under the Magical law of this country and ministry by Bellatrix Druella Black Lestrange, resident at Black mansion, Marsett, Leyburn. Interrogators: Kingsley Charles Shacklebolt, Acting Minister for Magic; Rufus Damian Fudge, acting Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley —"

As the proceedings carried on she could see her sitting on the chair as if she was the queen—no empress—of the courtroom. She didn’t seem the least bit worried by the list of crimes that were being read out. She had committed and later admitted to. As she looked over the collected audience of the Wizengamot.

The witches and wizards that sat there as the jury had difficulty looking her in the eyes she noted. A lot of them were young, their older colleagues either death, found to be death eaters or had sought for early retirement. It was a good thing the rejuvenation of the court she thought. The fact that they didn’t know how to deal with Bellatrix was understandable.

“—does the accused have any comments on the charges brought against her before the defence starts?” Kingsley asked her, making her look at him for the first time since sitting down. He didn’t flinch as his younger colleagues.

“Till death do us part,” she spoke as she looked away again.

**Ten days after**

“I’m afraid that the laws say that she’s a correct minister.”

“There is nothing we can do then?”

“I didn’t say that the ministry can send someone to supervise her.”

“We can do that without her having committed a _current_ crime?”

“I do believe so.”

“Now we just have to find someone that would be up for that.”

**Eleven days after**

“—you see how we are in a rather difficult spot miss Granger,” he said, putting his drink down. It was his election reception. The ministry had gotten its gears turning again and the first appointment was the minister. As there had been no opposition and Harry had declined publicly, he was now the minister.

“I see, but I’m still a bit confused about the legality of these actions. Believe me, I hate her with all my heart, but there is still the word of law,” she responded, it had been a busy couple of days for her. In the department of mysteries, she had gotten to speak with the unspeakables.

They had sworn her to secrecy and given her access to the room of death and of life. The first one she had visited before in the battle she was involved with. The grand hall with the gate in the middle looked as daunting as it had before. The room of life was smaller, brighter and held a puddle in a field. She had been warned to not step in it as there was no guarantee that she would return if she did.

During these days she had spoken with three different unspeakables. None of them had any inclination why she was still walking, but all of them—her included—thought it had something to do with the spell she had cast right as the chaos had broken loose.

She hadn’t been able to replicate the spell in the department and when they all looked through her memories it wasn’t more clear how she had pulled it off. In the end, there was only one thing that they had been able to figure out. Her’s and Bellatrix’s lives had been connected.

“I asked about it and it seems that it was added about a century back, there is no record of it though,” he continued, trying to remember what his assistant had told him earlier that day. “But I’ve been told that the records are more often missing from anything older than fifty years.”

At this Hermione looked up shocked, “you’re working with a lacking archive?”

“It does appear so, but for the moment that’s less important. Are you willing to take her on as a responsibility?”

“I—I’ll have to think about it.”

“Thanks miss Granger, honestly I’d be most grateful,” he told her as someone tapped on his shoulder. He was needed elsewhere, she understood he was the minister now.

**One month after**

“No.”

“Bella, she’s your way out.”

“I don’t want her, I don’t want any mudblood keeping me on a leash Cissa.”

“Bellatrix Black, stop being a little kid, it’s a miracle that you haven’t been given the dementors kiss,” she said, letting it hang. There was little her sister had been scared of, even during her years in Azkaban she had been proud. The Dementors had sucked her happiness out of her in the first couple of months the first time around.

Narcissa had ever visited her sister once during her stay in Azkaban. It had been at the one year anniversary. Bella had been of some sort of sound mind at the time, the insanity that she had been hiding was slipping through the cracks.

As she had been about to leave Bellatrix had pulled her to the bars in a bout of panic. She had told her two things then; don’t let them take my soul, and don’t come to see me again.

“They wouldn’t,” she said, this time less smug than when she had spoken to the Wizengamot last month.

“Bella, I don’t know what they will do, while you haven't got any crimes against your person _currently_ doesn’t mean that they think about it in the same way.”

“...I’ll consider it,” she told her.

“Thanks, Bella,” she was genuine, she couldn’t handle another loss in the family, not now. 

**One and a half months after**

“—by the power invested in me by the Wizengamot I realise you from the ministries custody, from now till the end of the days miss granger will be your supervisor,” Kingsley said letting the gavel came down on the bench. With the resounding echo that followed he could see the bound that he had enacted between the two individuals standing on the floor.

Hermione looked over to her, there was a growing feeling of dread in her body. She knew why she had agreed to this but now in this moment she had her doubts again. There was no precedent for this.she all but as she could look at the person that had been released into her custody she was thinking back to what Harry had told her. ‘ _We are done with acting evil, we will lay our wands down._ ’

In that spirit she looked over to Bellatrix, she had brought her sister along for the ride, no more family left that would stand by her.

“Come on, let's get it over with,” she declared already bored of the whole procedure. It might give her back her freedom but she wasn’t about to wait for anyone.

Ignoring her request Kingsly when on with his business as usual, “Hermione Jean Granger, you have with sound and clear mind read and reviewed the terms of your supervision. Found them to be in order to your requests and willingly take this responsibility on yourself?”

“I, Hermione Jean Granger have reviewed the terms and have found no fault that would prohibit me from agreeing to begin supervising Bellatrix Druella Black Lestrange. With sound mind, I’d be honoured to take her into my custody.”

“Bellatrix Druella Black Lestrange, you have received the terms of this agreement would you—”

“Sure yes, whatever. I agree to all the bullshit you are talking about,” she said interrupting him, she could appreciate some formalities but after about an hour of this meeting, she had enough of it. She just wanted to go home and sleep on her couch trying to forget the world had ever existed in the first place.

“Well, then this matter is settled,” he said as he signed the document that Hermione had handed him back with her own signature.

“Miss Black, I sincerely hope to never hear from you again,” he told Bellatrix, “Miss Granger, on the other hand, feel free to contact me when you need me.”

“But how will I entertain myself,” Bellatrix started before Narcissa pulled her out of the room.

“You sure you are up for this?” he asked her.

“Can’t really back out now can I,” she told him.

**Two months after**

“Tell me that you won’t be here every morning,” she groaned into her pillow.

“It’s not that bad, I just need to make sure you’re not causing mayhem somewhere, it’s not like you have to do anyway,” it might have sounded a bit mean to someone else but she had to be honest. Aside from playing a glorified babysitter for a legally speaking innocent person, didn’t mean that she hadn’t had other things to do in her life.

“You walking in here to wake me up in the middle of the night—”

“—it’s like thirty past eight—”

“—and you come with all that snarky energy, you know that right?”

As she stood at her bed she turned on her heels, walking out, “Don’t cause any trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah....”

**One year after**

“How is she?”

“She’s not as annoying as you had said before,” Bella said as she took the teacup from her sister.

“I’m pretty sure that you said she was annoying a couple of times,” Narcissa responded with a smile. She had seen her sister open up more and more about her supervisor. She talked about her as if she was a Hogwarts crush, but one that she hadn’t noticed herself.

It was going to be interesting when she found out.

**Two years after**

“Harry, could I grab you for a moment?” Hermione asked already pulling her friend away from his wife. Ginny looked a bit funny at the action but when she gave her a look she just shrugged and continued the conversation she was having.

“sure, what’s up ‘Mione?” he asked as she closed the door of her office. Looking around he noticed that it had gotten a bit more crowded than the last time he had been here. It was more and more becoming her space he observed.

“I slept with her.”

“Oh that’s nice—” Harry paused as he replayed that sentence in his head.

He looked like he was about to say something before he closed his mouth as he thought it over again, “...you.”

She nodded.

“And her?” he asked.

She nodded again.

“Ah,” he sat down on the desk.

“Yup.”

“You enjoy it?” he asked after a pause.

Hermione just started to yell internally for a bit.

**Five years after**

“Morning muddy,” her dreams had gotten a lot more realistic she noted as she opened her eyes. She saw the dark curtains that she had seen on Bellatrix’s four poster bed.

…

Black curtains, four-poster bed? Where was she….

“Not gonna give me a morning, Muddy?”

_Fuck_

**Six years later**

“So, this is happening?” Narcissa asked her.

“I...” Hermione said.

“Yes, it is,” Bella cut in holding her on her lap. She was having a blast, in the past year, she had been able to get closer acquainted to her supervisor.

“Care to tell me how this got started?” Narcissa sounded actually interested for once.

“I don’t think it is all that—” Hermione tried before.

“So about a year ago, Muddy here was like, I’m so tired and all blah blah blah. And I was being a nice person cause that’s me, the nicest, said hey, why don’t you go sleep on the couch? And she was like, ‘no; I can’t like that be improper and stuff.’ After which I was like, ‘Get your ass in bed before I put it there,’ and that’s how she got to sleep in my bed for the first time,” Bella launched into their relationship.

“—Bella I’m sure that she gets the picture.”

“Bella eh?” Narcissa noted.

**Ten years after**

“Muddy?”

“What Bells?”

“You ever noticed a grey hair in my hair—Outside of the grey streak.”

“Hmn, no not that I can recall.”

“Strange,” she mumbled to herself.

**Twelve years after**

“I still can’t believe that she’s okay with this.”

“Love is a strange road to travel down.”

“Yeah, but former death eater reforming to getting in bed with Hermione is a lot.”

“Ron, I don’t know, but Hermione is happy and that’s a lot nowadays.”

“I guess so,” he responded as the music started to play.

As he and Harry stood with the rest of the people in the ceremony he noticed that even now people were wary of the bride as she was standing at the altar. As she had no more family left she had opted to wait there for her to be wife.

**Twenty-five years after**

“Sweetheart, you remember that time I asked if you could find a grey hair in my hair?”

“That was a while ago, Bells.”

“I know, but like have you seen one ever? Like outside of the grey streak.”

“I don’t think so, why you ask?”

“It’s just been a while since I’ve noticed myself ageing, like the past ten or so years I don’t think I’ve changed all that much.”

“And you are complaining about that?” 

She looked up from her book, her wife was smiling at her from across the saloon. She had enjoyed the years they had spent together. She had never seen herself being with someone outside of the pureblood circles, but after her coming back, sweeping the board clean in a kind of ways.

“What you laughing at over there?”

“You haven’t been this worried in years, and now that you are it is because you are not seeing yourself ageing?”

“I mean if you put it like that I do sounds like I’m being grumpy.”

“Well, you are, but you’re my grump.”

**Forty-seven years after**

“Bella, I think I found you a grey hair,” she called out. It had been a fun game the both of them played. She’d be worried that she wasn’t ageing and her telling her that she was just ageing like wine. Finer with age.

“Where did you find it?” she could almost hear the excitement in her voice, she almost wanted to just not say anything. But she wouldn’t be herself is she was gonna lie to her wife.

“In my own hair,” she called out.

“Oh,” Bella said disappointingly, “that’s nice,” she sounded disappointed only for a tiny bit...

**Sixty-three years after**

“You still look the same as when I took you in all those years ago Bells,” Hermione said from her bed.

“And you have aged beautifully, in all those years you aged like fine wine. You know like Cissy used to say,” Bellatrix took a breath when she held her wife’s hand. It had become old and frail where hers were still the same as they had been seventy years ago.

She had worried that since about half a century ago that she wasn’t ageing as quickly as she was expecting to. She had seen her sisters go slowly. In her old days, she even had reconciled with Andy, it hadn’t been easy but they had talked.

Narcissa had been more difficult to see go, she almost stopped ageing like her but it had come quick in the end. Her funeral had been one where close friends had been invited, herself, the boy that had lived again, her son and family were all of the once in attendance.

She had stood by her grave for several hours after it was closed. Hermione had come to get her. It was there that she had gotten the cold that had landed her in this bed.

“Bells I think I’m gonna go to sleep, be good my darling,” she said frailty when her breath was running on it’s last leg.

“But how would I entertain myself,” she said. It wasn’t the same jovial tone as back then, but this time it wasn’t a fun occasion.

“Goodnight Hermione Jean Granger Black, may the stars be your guide.”


	2. Life gets going

**First day alone**

The house was empty, in the past couple of months, there had been a silence descending on it. Now she was sitting in the saloon reading a story that her nephew had gifted her for last Yule. As she turned the page she noticed a stray hair getting stuck to the page.

Looking closer she tried to see what colour it was, it would be black, like all the hairs that she had ever lost—grey.

She’d lost a grey hair, that’s—in all these years she had never had a—how could this have happened. Every time she had asked her she got the same answer, ‘no I haven’t seen a grey hair on your head that wasn’t there before.’

‘Was this maybe a sign?’ she wondered not quite aloud.

Closing up her book she got up and walked over to where she had placed the portrait of her wife. It had been painted on the twentieth anniversary but till yesterday it had been empty, waiting for them to occupy it, waiting to carry on together.

“Darling, I fear that you won’t be staying long,” she told the portrait.

As spry as she had been all those years before Hermione responded, “Don’t leave me waiting bells.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“See you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any comments you have are appreciated

**Author's Note:**

> Just leave comments if you want to if you don't that's fine too but like I'd really appreciate them all.


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